cv (ephemeras) wrote in rooms, @ 2015-03-04 20:35:00 |
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Entry tags: | !silent hill, *narrative, gwen stacy |
Narrative
Who: Gwen
What: Going to help Flash
Where: Marvel → Silent Hill
When: Nowish
Warnings/Rating: Nope
Testing the modified anti-hallucinogenic took longer than she expected. Volunteers were numerous at the university, but she needed someone with a currently unmedicated history of hallucinations, and that was harder to find than some university test subject willing to get injected with nearly anything for fifty dollars. Ultimately, she traced her way back to some of the local, untreated homeless that had signed up for testing at the university science building. But names and locations weren't predictable in the transient community in winter, and she wasted an hour finding the two test subjects she was looking for. In the end, she was out two-hundred dollars, her coat and mittens, and two lunches from the local cart. But neither subject had any negative effects after four hours, and hallucinations were not present from either subject when she left. It wasn't a long-term study, but she felt fairly confident in the results. She'd only modified an existing and FDA approved drug to remove sedative qualities which, while therapeutic, would be really bad for Flash given current parameters.
She returned home, and she changed into jeans and a t-shirt, a warm hoodie over and boots made for being outdoors. She loaded up her backpack with the items Flash requested, and her dad's service revolver was belted low on her hips, extra notches added to his police belt back when they'd gone to zombies. She had five doses of the anti-hallucinogenic, and she had three maps of Silent Hill, all downloaded from the internet. She'd mapped a path to the school on each, to account for variations in the world space. She was ready.
Finding the door wasn't super challenging, and she had Hels to thank for that. But she didn't want to think too much about Hels, because Hels would be so angry that she was doing this. But Flash needed help, and she could help. She wasn't very good at staying back when her friends were in trouble, and there was no one around to web her ineffectively to a car hood. In summation, she totally had this.
She waited where she'd waited with Hels before, and there wasn't any good smelling food or friendly laughter to keep her company in the hallway this time as she waited for the door to appear. She only had her thoughts, and her thoughts weren't particularly conducive to anything at the moment. She hadn't heard from Jason since that terrible day at his warehouse; she'd meant to talk to Hels about that, but there hadn't been time (or she'd been trying not to think about it). Harry was still crashing at her place, and she'd left him a note saying she was going to be out late (totally optimistic). Peter was being weird; Flash was right about that, but Gwen had no idea why, and she didn't want to concentrate on how that hurt her feelings (she was stupid to get attached).
She studied her map, because that was beneficial, and she made notes, and when the door appeared, she didn't allow herself to hesitate.
Inside, there wasn't any fog, and she didn't hear any of the sirens that purportedly served as harbingers. Without either of those things, the town looked relatively harmless. The sign welcomed visitors to Silent Hill, and the street ahead looked like Main Street in any quaint Americana suburb. It was still a foreign sight to the city girl who'd lived in a hi-rise her entire life, but it wasn't threatening. She walked, and it was kind of creepy to be alone as she went along, but that sensation would apply anywhere; emptiness wasn't something inhabitants of crowded cities were accustomed to.
As she walked, she reminded herself that nothing here was real. This wouldn't be as bad as the undead, she reasoned, because the things here were never human. The biology student in her had trouble with animated corpses. She knew they were deceased, but they were still human bodies that were functioning, which made her reason that there had to be some level of mental activity remaining that allowed them to be ambulatory. The zombies had basic survival instincts, to a certain degree, and that had to indicate mental processing. It made it hard for her to see them as non-living, and she still had nightmares about that door. But this wasn't going to be like that. This wasn't even going to be as bad as the dinosaurs, because those were living carnivores. These things were manifestations of digital creations. Ergo, these things weren't real, and there was no reason to fear them.
She looked at her map, and she tugged out her compass and corrected her course. It wasn't a long walk to the school, and the sooner she got there, the sooner they could all get home.